


Wraith

by Saber_Wing



Series: Reaper of Souls [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark!Regis, Horror, Tragedy, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saber_Wing/pseuds/Saber_Wing
Summary: No one was sure what happened to cause such a dramatic change in King Regis.





	Wraith

**Author's Note:**

> And the saga continues. Shit. Fuck. Here, just take it. I can't look at it anymore.

No one was sure what happened to cause such a dramatic change in King Regis.

The signs were subtle, at first. A slight darkening around the eyes. A refusal to eat, or sleep. Eventually, every spare moment was spent locked away in his study, surrounded by mountains of books. Researchers were pulled from their duties, and sequestered in the Crystal chamber without so much as a, _'by your leave.'_

Regis had cloaked himself in fire and steel, it seemed. This shroud hid a raw desperation, widening within the young monarch. A chasm so yawning and deep, not even Clarus - his sworn Shield - could bridge the gap.

Eventually, they learned Prince Noctis was the Chosen, and that Regis had refused the Gods. Stared the Draconian in the face and told them _no,_ they couldn't have his child. No, he wouldn't throw him to the wolves. He'd sooner watch the world burn.

And burn, it would.

Regis was a changed man. Of that much, his advisers were certain. Every word that fell from his lips was clipped, waspish. He had no patience for bickering nobles, or the calm platitudes he'd uttered all his life.

“Have you lost your mind?” they'd ask.

“Why yes, old friends. I think I have.” And Regis' eyes weren't just dark: they were sinister, over-bright with hysteria. “But I've done it.”

What he'd done, precisely, was unclear at first, but they didn't have long to wait. The following day, Regis ordered every MT found on the battlefield brought before him. Cells were built below the Citadel: mass barracks, whose purpose chilled them to the bone.

Human souls, he said. Regis needed them to power the ring. To take down the Accursed, and rid Eos of its Scourge. Magitek troopers, as it turned out, were cloned from humans. Created by Niflheim to turn the tide in their endless war. Thus, Lucis would use them to strike a blow against Niflheim, and good King Regis?

Why, he would have his souls, of course.

“Don't you see? He is my _son,”_ the King sobbed, tears in his maddened eyes. “I will do what I must.”

And try as they might, no one could think of a worthy response for that. How could they measure the worth of a living being? How could they tell Regis that dear Noctis - his heart and soul - was less important than a few thousand _faceless_ , nameless clones?

Before long, even the Accursed caught wind of Regis' plans - invited himself to court, one dreary night. Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim. Known, only to himself, as Ardyn Lucis Caelum.

Regardless of what name one chose to call him, he entered the throne room without preamble, sweeping the fedora from his head as he sunk into a mocking bow.

“What's this I hear about a reaper of souls, I wonder? Why, Your Majesty. I didn't know you had it in you.”

The King of Lucis studied him intently, chin propped on his hand. “There is little you know of me, Chancellor.”

Ardyn seemed amused. He swaggered toward the throne, with the ease of a man who had done so countless times. “Am I to understand you've stolen away Bahamut's 'Chosen' King? Little Noctis has a job to do, and I've a vested interest in seeing it done.”

Regis merely stared, steel in his hollow eyes. “ _I_ am the Chosen King. And you will have what you seek.”

Ardyn raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is it I seek, Dear Regis?”

“Eternal rest.”

The Accursed's expression turned wicked. For a moment, his face rotted, or so it seemed. His cheeks were hollow, pale before the light. His eyes, dark, fathomless pools, mired in scourge. More beast than man, but the King continued, undeterred.

“You are a puppet on strings, dancing to the whims of the Gods. Waiting for their Chosen King. I can break the chains. Cut the strings they've held for so long, and I can do it on _our_ terms. Is that agreeable, Oh Founder King?”

Ardyn _was_ amused now: his grin, predatory when he leveled it at Regis. “Close enough. You've done your research. I must admit, I'm curious. What in the name of Eos did our faultless Gods do to _piss_ you off, my dear?”

Regis chuckled. It was a twisted, bitter thing, echoing around the chamber. “They thought to parley with my child's life. I took it upon myself to change the terms of our arrangement.”

“Oh, come now, Regis. Don't tell me you've done this for a _single_ child.”

The King raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. “And if I have?”

Ardyn's eyes widened comically. He laughed, one hand clutching his chest. “Oh, I _like_ you. Such blatant selfishness.”

Regis scoffed. If one listened closely, they could almost hear the sob behind it. “Yes. What a fine pair of monsters we make, you and I.”

Ardyn regarded Regis thoughtfully. He slunk up the endless stairs, taking the King's chin in his hand.

“Very well, my dear. You've piqued my interest.” He caressed Regis' cheek with a thumb. “I'm a reasonable man. But _do_ be quick about it. Else you may find my patience waning.”

Regis _would_ be quick about it, he vowed, as Ardyn returned from whence he came. He would be strong, he vowed, as he steeled his resolve, barking orders at the terrified guards lining the walls. He would be unmoved, as he raised his hand, the Ring of Lucii glowing red from his finger. And the voices in his head?

Why, they would be silenced.

Two dozen Magitek troopers cowered before him, stripped of their armor: naked and pale. They scattered in all directions, petrified, slamming into the shield Regis raised around them with reckless abandon.

Human, in their final moments.

Regis took a moment to wonder whether the guttural, mechanical whirs before him sounded like screams, and in the end, dismissed that as irrelevant.

They could scream all they wanted, from their ruined, shattered throats.

The King of Lucis would do what he must.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okaaaaaaay, that was horrifying.
> 
> I couldn't get this out of my head. I don't know that I've ever written in omniscent style before either, so please forgive any sloppiness. I just...I can't even look at it more. I'm so sorry. Just...wow.


End file.
